I'm Just Saying, You Could Do Better
by cakebythepound
Summary: Rick comes home from his first "date" with Jessie. Home to Michonne, that is. (Richonne one-shot. Warnings: A small dose of Jessick, a large dose of adult stuff.)


**A/N:** I got an anon request for this a while ago, but I was focusing on Her, so I wasn't in the space to do it. But I've been in a rude mood ever since AB got her ass on Twitter, telling people to back off for things she did herself, and here we are. So I'll fully admit I was in ain't-shit mode when I wrote this, and didn't try for much nuance in writing this Jessie at all. Sorry not sorry? Haha. Hope you like anyway, though! (It gets pretty smutty at the end.) -Ash

* * *

 **I'm Just Saying, You Could Do Better**

Rick stared intently at the rim of his glass, studying the thickness of the dark line, inwardly wishing that it were a ledge. A ledge big enough for him to jump off. Or, conversely, he would've settled for being small enough to fit it - whatever gave him the ability to dive into the cold beer he was nursing. Even drown in it, if possible. He would've done anything to escape the awkwardly mind-numbing dinner he was in the midst of.

He had noticed that Jessie seemed similarly bored, pushing her mashed potatoes around her plate, taking a small bite every thirty seconds or so, to make it seem as though she was simply still eating, and not out of things to say.

"Did you like your dinner?" she decided to ask, seeing that his plate was empty. She hoped it meant that he had at least enjoyed some part of this fiasco.

"I did," he nodded, clearing his throat. His eyes dropped from his glass to his plate, wanting to smash it over his head and hopefully knock himself out. "I'd never had tofu before," he continued, "so that was a… nice surprise."

"I just figure, since we're always so low on fresh meat, might as well get used to it," she smiled uneasily. "I know it's not everybody's thing."

"No, it was good." He held up his plate, showing that he obviously had enjoyed it.

She nodded back at him. "Right."

He nodded again, as well, his gaze slowly meandering to the candle burning to his left. There were two more on her kitchen counter a few feet away, and he'd been distracted by them all night, wondering why they were just sitting there being wasted, when they had electricity at Alexandria. "I'm sorry, this has been bugging me since I got here," he finally decided to say, gesturing towards the burning wax, "but shouldn't we save these for when the grids go down?"

Jessie was taken aback by his contention, glancing over at the candle, bewildered. "Oh," she blinked. She had been trying for a certain ambiance, but it was clear that that was a silly notion at that point. She stood from her seat and moved to turn on the bright, overhead light, putting out the candles on the counter on her way back, while Rick diffused the one at the table with his fingertips. "Sorry," she smiled nervously as she sat back down. "I just thought these lights were so harsh."

"Well, you'll thank me when you don't have to sit in the dark some night in the near future. With winter coming, I imagine these grids get a good workout."

"They do," she confirmed. It was funny that that was something he thought about, when she'd lived there for two winters and it didn't really cross her mind. "We usually just bear down around sundown and use minimal electricity."

"So spoiled," he chuckled, sounding a bit derisive as the words came out of his mouth.

Jessie stared back at him, feeling mocked by him then. His disinterest was one thing, as if she made him come over there, but ridiculing her was another. "So arrogant," she shot back.

He looked up from the table, almost surprised she'd finally said something interesting. "I'm sorry?"

"Your arrogance," she repeated more clearly for him. "It isn't charming."

Rick was self-aware enough to know he'd been pretty arrogant since he'd gotten to Alexandria, but he could appreciate that she wasn't enjoying it then. "All right…"

"Do you not wanna do this?" she decided to finally ask. "Am I bothering you?"

"I feel like I should be asking you the same thing, Jessie. What are we doing here?"

She threw her hands up, as if the question were completely ridiculous. "I asked you over because I want to get to know you. So we could get to know each other outside of talking about dead spouses."

"And I accepted, because I also thought that's what we were doin'. But this… I don't know."

"You're not trying," she frowned.

"I shouldn't have to try this hard." His brow line furrowed as he thought about the beginning of his relationship with Lori, as that was the only adult relationship he had to reference. It was a long time ago, but he could remember that the beginning was the easiest part. "We shouldn't have to try at all, if this is gonna be anything."

"Well that's not fair. We started with some pretty shitty circumstances."

"And maybe that was a sign. Maybe… I mean, I don't know," he shook his head. "I don't know what you saw in me, and honestly, I'm kind of scared of what I saw in you."

She exhaled sharply, trying not to feel stung by his words. "I saw a good man, that took an interest in me, that ended up saving me. And I don't understand what changed."

"I don't either," he shrugged. He looked around her house, similar to his in makeup and décor, and he couldn't help but think about what her home was like before he came along. He didn't know what he was doing, and he was dragging her along with him while he figured it out. "Maybe everything did."

"Are you worried about what other people think? Your friends shouldn't—"

"My _family_ ," he cut her off to correct her. "They're my family."

"You know what I mean," she rolled her eyes at him interrupting to say that. "I just don't want them to be the reason we don't work."

He shook his head again, even though he couldn't be sure that wasn't true. Their opinions – Michonne's, especially – meant a lot to him. "I really don't know."

"I wish you would figure it out," she said, staring at his wedding ring now. "Hell, I wish you would've figured it out before you killed my husband."

And… that was the end of their night. "Yeah, I think me and my arrogance oughta go now."

"Rick," she sighed when she realized what she'd actually said in her frustration. She didn't mean it. "I'm sorry. Don't go."

"No, I should. "

"We haven't even had dessert yet."

He was already standing from the table, grabbing his jacket from the back of her sofa as he declined the offer. "Let's not keep torturing each other, Jessie."

"Rick…" She was following him to the door, but she wasn't even sure why. Nothing about their night was worth trying to salvage. "Maybe we can try this again some other time," she offered, not wanting to end on a completely bad note.

He glanced back at her, giving her a nod that didn't say much of anything. "We'll see."

* * *

Rick walked into his home with one long, exasperated sigh, both relieved to be out of Jessie's company, and confused as to how things could've gone so badly. They hadn't had a ton of interaction since Pete died over a month before, and he thought that would work in their favor. He was so, so wrong. He leaned against the doorframe as he thought about what the hell he would say to her the next time they saw one another.

"Bad date?"

He hadn't noticed Michonne sitting there when he walked in, but hearing her flat tone, already making fun of him, he knew, he glared in her direction. She hadn't even bothered to look up from her book to mock him. "It wasn't a date," he said for what had to be the fifth time. "And yes, it was horrible."

"So you mean to tell me it's difficult to get to know someone after you killed their spouse in cold blood? That is _shocking_."

"You're not helping." He stalked through the kitchen to quickly grab himself a beer from the refrigerator, pulling off his jacket as he searched for the bottle opener, while his friend and roommate continued to deride him for his bad decisions.

"I'm sorry, who told you I was here to help?"

"Well how about you not make it worse," he called back.

"Rick, you've been acting like an idiot over this woman for months now. I think, at the very least, I get to make fun of you for it."

He stood in the doorway of their kitchen, beer in hand, peering at Michonne and how cavalier she was about calling him stupid. She had some nerve, sitting there with her book on a Saturday night. At least he was trying to have a life there. "You look like a hobo," he declared matter-of-factly, sauntering into the living room to join her.

She stared down at her cozy outfit – from her Ugg boots and sweatpants to her t-shirt and hoodie – and frowned back up at him. "I do not."

"Where did you even find those boots?"

"If you must know, Tara brought these back for several of us. And they are quite comfortable."

"I sure hope so, because they're ugly as sin."

"Listen. Don't be coming in here disturbing me, judging my outfit and shit. My living room is a safe space for me to look as homeless as I want."

"Our living room," he corrected her, taking a seat at the end of the couch, opposite from her. Rick had to smile at the fact that she was still sexy as hell in her hobo mode. Her hair in a messy ponytail, putting her gorgeous face on full display; the tight top, hugging her tits; the sweatpants that undoubtedly showed off her perfect, round ass. He quite liked this look, in fact. He propped his feet on the coffee table, same as she had hers up, and sighed. "What are you reading?"

Michonne held up the bright yellow book cover for him to see, smirking as she brought it back down. She wondered if he would have any knowledge of the subject matter, and got her answer when she caught the grin on his face.

"Scandalous," he remarked, taking a sip of his beer. While he had never actually read _Portnoy's Complaint_ , he was still aware of the controversy that surrounded it, even forty years after it had been written. "If you wanted somethin' to get you goin', you could've just come by my room."

"Oh yeah, right," she rolled her eyes playfully. Being roommates for three months now, they had found the space to joke about sex here and there; especially after catching one another coming out of the shower from time to time. But those lines never blurred past harmless jokes. "Should I have done that before or after your date with someone else?"

"I'm just sayin'. I'm sure I could've done you better than just reading about it."

"Have you read this?" she laughed. "There's absolutely nothing sexy about it."

"Isn't there?"

"It's actually very funny."

"Well sex can be funny," he offered thoughtfully. "Hell, it usually needs to be."

"Not the way I have it," she shot back, though mostly kidding. "That must be a you and Jessie thing."

He rolled his eyes as he set his beer on the table and then propped himself up on his elbow as he stared at her. "You're _hilarious_."

"You know I'm kidding. I'm sure you two have nice, perfectly serviceable sex."

"Better than none at all," he quipped, deciding to go along with her jokes. If she could have them, he could, too.

"Oh, low blow!" she giggled, impressed with his audacity. She rested her book face down over the arm of the couch, and glanced his way, getting a good look at him for the first that evening. He looked rather handsome in his dark blue plaid - it brought out his eyes. "Tell me what happened," she offered seriously. She'd been determined to appear apathetic about his whole thing with Jessie, but it was clear something was on his mind.

"You don't care," he knew, shaking his head. "It's fine."

"I do care," she admitted. She grabbed his beer from the table and took a swig. "Tell me."

"Did you really just take my drink," he asked, sitting up to look back at her.

She took another gulp, finishing off the bulk of it. "Did you really walk in here with just one beer?"

"That's fair," he had to concede, already standing to retrieve a couple more bottles. "You want a glass?" he called back.

"Who the fuck drinks bottled beer from a glass?"

He thought back to his dinner with Jessie and shook his head. Who, indeed?

"Is it cold in here to you?" he wondered when he returned from the kitchen. He was fully dressed, but he could guess that the kids might have been feeling the October chill up in their room.

"Not particularly," she shook her head. She accepted her new drink and turned her body on the couch so that she was facing Rick. "I left the kids extra blankets, if that's what you were concerned about."

He nodded thankfully. Taking a sip of his brew, he stared at the blank television screen across from them. "We just don't have anything in common," he intimated, finally revealing the details of his time next door. "It was like pulling teeth, trying to have a conversation about something other than our kids."

"Well that's something you have in common. Two kids, lost spouses..."

He rolled his eyes, wishing they'd had anything else to talk about. "I think we exhausted that topic in the first two months we were here."

"Welp."

"Right," he chuckled.

"So that's why you came back home so early? Looking like someone stole all your toys?"

"That is not what I looked like," he retorted defensively.

"That's exactly what you looked like," she grinned in amusement. "Stomping around in your little tantrum."

"Well, if you must know, I came home early because we decided it wasn't working. We were really just sitting there staring at inanimate objects."

"Sounds riveting."

"It was torturous," he submitted, taking another drink. "The most interesting part of the night was when we almost argued. Probably out of boredom…"

Michonne couldn't help but watch as Rick's wet pink lips wrapped around the opening of his bottle, and how he licked them once he was done. He looked so good that night, it was a wonder Jessie hadn't just jumped his bones. His hair was just the right length, his curls stopping right above his collar; and that salt and pepper beard of his framed his face just perfectly, making his lips all the more prominent. She always thought so, but this only proved how insipid Jessie was. If he'd shown up at her door, looking like this, no talking would be necessary. She would've been sitting on his face within the hour.

"Why is it so easy to talk to you?" Rick wondered, snapping Michonne out of her inappropriate thoughts.

"I don't know." She began to yawn as she curled her legs up on the couch behind her. "God knows it wasn't always that way."

He looked over at her, a serious look on his face, and his tone deepened as he spoke. "We were both broken back then."

She scoffed at the idea as her fingers roamed around the neck of her bottle, wiping at the condensation that had formed around it. "Maybe that's why you and Jessie are so incompatible. She's just now understanding the reality of what's outside these walls. And you're finally coming to terms with what's inside. You're on opposite sides of the spectrum."

He nodded thoughtfully at her assessment. He'd walked into Alexandria thinking Jessie could be the answer - someone who hadn't been hardened by the outside, and could show him the way back, but it seemed that he didn't need that, after all. "Maybe I thought we would meet on the middle," he sighed.

"I don't think you gave it that much thought at all," Michonne shot back pointedly.

"Is that so?"

"I like to think I know you pretty well. Would you say that's true?"

He nodded, frowning in uncertainty of where she was headed with this. "Yeah..."

"So I know you're not an asshole, Rick. I know you _can_ be, but you're generally quite caring. So to see you do this one-eighty, chasing after another man's wife... especially after what happened to you..." She shook her head as she took another sip of her ale. "I don't think – or at least, I'd like to believe – you didn't think this through."

"What happened to me was completely different," he replied, his eyebrows still furrowed in confusion. "Pete was abusive."

"You wanted her before that. You saw a pretty blonde, and your dick got hard for the first time in a long time, and you lost your goddamn mind, Rick."

He stared at her blankly for nearly a minute, processing what she'd just said. Her blunt choice of words aside, he hated how she'd oversimplified it that way. "That's really how you saw it, Michonne?"

"That was how _everyone_ saw it."

"I'm not talking about everyone. I'm talking about you."

Her hardened gaze softened when she realized that he wanted her to say no. He wanted her to believe in him more than that. "What else was I supposed to think?"

"I dunno," he said softly. He rested his head against the back of the sofa, still staring at his friend. "Maybe there's just something about wanting what you can't have."

"Tell me about it." With that, she downed the rest of her drink in a fairly quick gulp, and set the empty bottle on the table.

"For what it's worth, Jessie was definitely not the first woman to 'get my dick hard,' as you put it." He felt his face flush as the words came out of his mouth, and he bit his lip bashfully. "It's just the first time in a long time that the circumstances allowed me to even consider acting on it."

She nodded back, accepting his explanation with a smirk. "I'm curious..."

"Of course you are."

"I don't have to ask if you don't want me to."

"I already know what the question is, but go on," he sighed.

"If you already know, then just answer it."

"I'm pretty sure you already know the answer, so if I have to say it, you have to ask it."

She smiled at him then, glad that he was willing to endure this embarrassment solely for her amusement. "All right," she shrugged. "Who else has gotten you going?"

Rick let out a long exhale as he began to pull his boots off to get more comfortable. "I'm not sure if you remember her, but I always thought Karen from Woodbury was pretty attractive..." He glanced at Michonne expectantly, waiting for her reply.

Her eyes widened, knowing he was joking, but still, she was once again surprised by his gall. "Oh, it's like that?"

"You asked."

"I did," she nodded, pretending to be offended. "All those times you stared down my shirt just did nothing for you, huh?"

"No, nothing at all," he scoffed. "I also don't look at your ass when you walk out of a room either."

"I didn't think so. But it's nice to get confirmation."

He chuckled, shaking his head at their sarcastic conversation, and how candid he could be with her, without even thinking. It was so unlike his relationships with everyone else. The jokiness between them, the honesty. He loved that about their friendship. "I won't lie, back at the prison, I thought about coming to your cell a couple of times."

She looked up in surprise, wondering what it was that stopped him. Wondering if it was the same thing that had stopped her. "Why didn't you?"

"I dunno," he said, rubbing at his eyebrow with his index finger. "I wasn't sure what you would say."

"Fear of rejection," she frowned knowingly.

"Somethin' like that." His eyes stayed on her face as he realized that she had probably considered the same thing. "Maybe if you hadn't been gone so much, I would've acted on it one of those days."

She smirked at him playfully, dismissing him in the same breath. "Don't you dare try to blame your cowardice on me, Rick."

"I can and I did," he grinned.

"Maybe the timing just wasn't right," she granted. "Maybe it's better that we didn't go that route back then."

"Maybe we had to make it here first."

She nodded, eyeing his lips again as he finished his beer. "Maybe..."

* * *

Jessie had spent the past hour drinking her bad date with Rick away, but the fact was, she was sad. She had been waiting for this moment for so long, finally getting Rick's undivided attention, and it went to hell within a matter of minutes. She hated the way she was feeling. With her children gone for the night, she didn't even have them as a distraction from it all. Just her and her thoughts, replaying everything she'd said wrong.

Her head was pounding as she stood from her kitchen table, but she didn't want to let that deter her. She needed to see Rick, or she would never get to sleep. She wanted to apologize. Even if they couldn't be… whatever they were trying to be, she wanted to be friends. She couldn't lose anyone else.

She went to the sink to quickly splash some water on her face, and then headed out of her door without a second thought. She walked briskly across her yard, hugging herself as a shield from the cool night, until she was walking up the steps of Rick's home. She hadn't even completely made it to the porch when she inadvertently glanced into his living room window, and she was forced to stop in her tracks. Her breath caught in her throat, and her stomach dropped to her feet as she took in the image of Rick's head between Michonne's thighs.

She immediately turned away, trying not to let her hurt feelings cloud her common sense, but she couldn't help but turn back and get another look. Maybe it was just sheer curiosity, but she couldn't stop herself from continuing up those steps.

Inside the house, Rick and Michonne were oblivious to the fact that they'd been caught, simply lost in the intensity of the heated moment. He had one of her legs thrown over his shoulder as he unmercifully licked and sucked at her clit, enjoying the way she quietly moaned with every flick of his tongue. He was turned on by just the sight of the deliciously plump lips of her pussy, not unlike the ones on her face, and devouring them only made his dick harder. The taste of her cream in his mouth was sending him over the edge.

Michonne's breathing was labored as she tried not to lose her mind right then and there. But she was attempting to stay quiet, and it wasn't working out so well. As Rick's tongue lightly pushed into her center, and he began to rub his finger against her sensitive bud, she wanted to scream. Loudly. "Rick, let me do you," she requested breathlessly. She couldn't take it anymore.

"I don't wanna stop," he mumbled, slurping up her juices. After all, no one in their right mind would voluntarily stop eating in the middle of their new favorite meal.

She smiled at his response, but she was desperate to get to his dick and make him feel the same way he did her. "Okay," she nodded, still trying not to cry out in pleasure. She gently ran her fingers against his curls, and tapped his back with her foot. "Hold up for just a sec."

He hesitantly did as told, raising up from the sofa while she did the same. "Where are you going," he demanded.

"Calm down," she grinned, carefully stepping over her sweatpants that had been thrown to the floor. "Lie down."

"What."

"You heard me," she retorted, pointing to the empty couch.

Again, he followed her instructions and laid flat on his back, waiting for her to hop back on. She did, without any further words exchanged, turning her back to him before climbing on, straddling his chest. With her perfect ass in his face, Rick smiled to himself when he realized exactly what she was up to.

"Have you ever done this before," she asked casually as she began to unbuckle his belt, excitedly eyeing his hardened bulge as she did.

"No," he admitted, already fingering her from behind. "Have you?"

Michonne shook her head, unable to speak when he glided his hand along her slit. She almost couldn't believe they had managed to wait so long, considering how hungry they both clearly were for one another. "You better make it good," she teased, as she pushed his pants down his hips.

Her mouth began to water as his dick came into view, hard as a rock and twitching slightly as she felt Rick's hands take hold of her ass. She could feel his tongue rolling between her cheeks, and she nearly forgot what she was supposed to be doing. With a trembling exhale, she began to stroke his long cock, smiling when she felt his tongue haphazardly react to it. He'd lost his rhythm for a moment. This only encouraged her, and she continued her long, languid strokes, his hips reacting beneath her as she massaged him torturously.

Rick's assault continued, though, licking her wet pussy from front to back and over again. He squeezed her ass as he ate, loving the way her body writhed against his face. Her juices were all over his lips and chin, and still, he couldn't get enough. But then he felt her warm mouth cover his cock, and he had to pause for a moment. He felt his toes lock and his mouth parted as she took him in, gagging on his length as her fingers played with his balls. He wanted to die.

"Michonne," he grunted from underneath her.

She didn't respond, but continued to suck his dick like her life depended on it. She was so turned on, especially when he started to eat her again, lapping at her pussy softly. She had always wondered what he could do with those lips, and now she knew - he could drive her absolutely insane. She was so wet it was nearly uncomfortable, but he was licking it all up, his tongue moving in long strokes back and forth across her cunt. Choking on his cock as he ate her out was so wonderfully tantalizing, it was hard to concentrate on the two things at once. She was actually surprised when she felt his warm cum in her mouth, while she was busy trying to come herself.

"Oh, fuck," she mumbled, licking at her lips as she held his thighs. She lifted her head, sitting up straight while he finished her off, and her gaze drifted towards the door. She was certain she was seeing things at first, in some wild haze from Rick tongue-fucking her, but no. It was unmistakably Jessie's silhouette she saw in the window. Watching her and Rick. Witnessing them filthily pleasure one another. Michonne could only smirk, figuring her neighbor must've liked what she saw.

"Michonne," Rick was still mumbling between her cheeks, completely unaware of what was happening above him.

She immediately put her focus back on the man underneath her, pulling her t-shirt off, just as she felt herself squirt all over his mouth. She pulled off her shirt, carelessly throwing it somewhere in the direction of the door, halfway hoping Jessie would stick around for what came next.


End file.
